


Love Blooms Blue

by Akiko_Natsuko



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 17:25:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20510720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: 'It was a ridiculous action, after all, there was unlikely to be a correlation between Hank and this strange thing, that the scan was still trying to find, and yet he had felt strangely…vulnerable? He shook his head, hand returning to his chest, wondering whether he pressed his fingers inside he would be able to catch these emotions that fluttered like butterflies within the confines of his chassis, fleeting, beautiful, but out of reach.'Connor was still trying to find his feet, as a deviant, as a person. With Hank. Struggling to make sense of new emotions, and new experiences, and the strange pangs of pain in his chest caused by some unknown error, unaware of what was blooming beneath the surface.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of my fics for the Hankcon reverse big bang. I was partnered with Sally-the-Chicken who drew this amazingly beautiful Art

_‘I came hoping to see those eyes, but instead, I return with my heart, leaving behind only flowers.’ – Kim Dong Hwa_  
  
****

_I am Connor, the Android sent by Cyberlife… _

It felt like a lifetime since he had uttered those words. Since those eight little words had summed up the entirety of his entire being. His purpose. There were times, albeit more and more infrequently that he almost wished that was still all he was. Times like now, as he stood staring out of the window, watching the flashing lights in the distance, emergency services no doubt responding to another incident caused by the uprising and the subsequent ‘peace’. He was half-tempted to scan the system to see what was happening and whether he was needed, but he resisted, not least because Hank had a strange obsession with making sure that Connor didn’t overwork himself. It wasn’t the only reason for his hesitation today though, and his hand rose to his chest, massaging at the centre, chasing the phantom pain that had jolted him out of his standby a few minutes before.

Diagnostics danced across his vision, his system searching for whatever had roused him, but he already knew that it wasn’t going to find anything. Just as it hadn’t the last ten times, he ‘d conducted similar searches, and his fingers curled into a fist, resting against his chest. The sharp pain that had roused him was gone, but there were an…ache? That seemed to be the right word for it, although it wasn’t something that he’d experienced before, at least not that he remembered, and for a moment he was distracted by the memory of Hank’s grumbling that morning. ‘_This damn cold is making my old bones ache…’_ He wanted to smile at the memory, remembering his partner’s grouchiness and the fact that he had used that to get Connor to go out and fetch him a coffee, as though he wouldn’t have done it anyway. However, his amusement faded as the diagnostics cleared from his vision, his system a contented blue as it indicated that everything was clear, the LED that he hadn’t yet been able to bring himself to remove flashing yellow, because there had to be something there.

_Unless it is just another part of deviancy…?_

He didn’t know how he felt about that. He was still adjusting to the fact that he was a deviant, although that term was rapidly falling out of favour, and Hank, in particular, didn’t like it, although when Connor had pressed him about why he didn’t like it, the man had just shrugged. _You’re Connor, not a deviant. I can’t really explain it. _There seemed to be a lot of things that humans knew but couldn’t explain, and Connor wondered what it must be like to exist like that, unable to deny the fact that he would quite like to experience that kind of certainty. To be able to look at something, or hear something and believe it, without his systems searching for the truth, clinging to facts when all he wanted to do was feel.

So, maybe it could be something like that. Perhaps, with all the time he had been spending with Hank and the deviants that were trying so hard to fit in with the humans, he was learning to feel not think, and his system was struggling to adapt. But he didn’t think that was the case. Perhaps because he was afraid to take that plunge, to let go of the logic that had guided him for so long.

Or, perhaps it was because this wasn’t the first time, he’d felt this pang.

_ He wasn’t entirely sure when he’d felt the first pang, as there had been so much going on around him at the time. He knew that it had taken a while and that it had started after his deviancy. Somewhere between Hank hating his very presence, growling at him, barely even tolerating him and the gradual softening of the man’s attitude towards him. _

_No, that wasn’t true. _

_He did remember. _

_ It had been outside the nightclub, as he watched the two Tracis disappearing into the night, Hank coming up alongside at him and looking at him with an expression that he had never seen from the man before. It had been kind, and almost soft and wondering, as though he had never seen Connor before. _

_ The pang had come as he’d turned away, Hank’s reassurances that it was ‘probably better that they had escaped’ warring with his feelings of failure, and the flickers of instability, fading as for a moment pain had lanced across his chest. As though the words, the softness, had slammed into him with almost physical force. It had barely lasted six seconds if that, too quick for anything but his most sensitive systems to detect it, but when he had scanned for the cause there had been nothing, and when Hank had noticed that he had faltered, he’d schooled his features into a blank mask and assured him that he was fine…just confused by the situation._

_ It had only been a partial lie._

Connor rubbed at his chest again, half expecting his fingers to find some anomaly, something that would tell him what was going on, even when his scans hadn’t. But there was nothing. No explanation. No reason. Just the echo of a pang that couldn’t be explained. _What is going on?_ He started another diagnostic, this one going deeper. It would take a few minutes, but Hank was fast asleep, and Connor had nothing better to do, and he couldn’t quell the flicker of…concern? Uncertainty? Fear? He wasn’t sure what the emotion stirring was, still struggling to label the experiences that he hadn’t been designed to feel, and it was easier to turn his attention to the data flowing across his vision.

But it didn’t stop his thoughts from wandering.

_Connor didn’t know what he was feeling right now. He was shaking, or at least he felt like he must be trembling, vibrating under the force of his emotions. Kaminski hadn’t been anything like what he’d expected, and the choice that had been put before him…_

_What if I made the wrong decision?_

_Did I lose vital information?_

_Should I have shot her?_

_ He didn’t like uncertainties. He didn’t understand them. He wasn’t programmed for them. Nor was he programmed to make the decision that he had made, or to be leaning into Hank as the older man guided him back outside. It was the only thing holding him upright he realised, and he all but melted into the warm even as he tried his best to mask what he was doing, aware that his LED was flashing crazily, and that he was teetering on the edge of something…_

_Pain._

_ Red hot pain, like the flash fire of a bullet tearing through vital wires lanced through his chest between one second and another. It took everything he had to stop the noise that nearly escaped and caught between the pain and the confusion he dropped his head to hide against Hank as the other man pulled him close for a brief moment._

_I don’t know what’s going on…_

He frowned. He had almost forgotten about that, too caught up in everything that had followed that disastrous visit, and he turned away from the window and glanced towards Hank’s room. He could just make out the man’s snoring from here, the sound weirdly comforting, especially when it felt as though he was spiralling around something momentous and for a second, he could have sworn that something had stirred in his chest. Not quite a pang, but the flickering promise of one and he hastily turned away. It was a ridiculous action, after all, there was unlikely to be a correlation between Hank and this strange thing, that the scan was still trying to find, and yet he had felt strangely…vulnerable? He shook his head, hand returning to his chest, wondering whether he pressed his fingers inside he would be able to catch these emotions that fluttered like butterflies within the confines of his chassis, fleeting, beautiful, but out of reach.

_Fear._

_ He was afraid. For himself. For the androids that were now relying on him to succeed in his mission. For Hank who had been dragged into this mess, and was shouting at him to keep going, to do what he needed to do. To risk Hank. It was a logical step. One life. One human life, versus all the androids that would be free if he succeeded, and Connor was nothing if not logical._

_But…_

_This is Hank._

_ He faltered, not just because of that thought, but because of the pain that hit him in that second. It was worse than the ones previously, and this time his vision blurred, system messages turning red as an error code that he didn’t recognise or understand flickered across his eyes. It passed, just as fleeting as the last and he blinked, only in time to see RK900’s fist coming for his face. There was no time to duck, and he staggered back, skin breaking under the force of the blow and for a moment, the world was reduced to static and white noise. It was the sound of his opponent moving that saved him, the tiniest scrape of a foot on the floor, giving him the warning, he needed to dodge the next blow, and this time he managed to throw an arm up to block the third. No! I will not sacrifice Hank. I will not lose. His chest ached, but the pain was softer now, already fading and he straightened, lifting his eyes to meet RK900’s gaze._

_I can’t lose._

He had known what he was feeling there. He hadn’t been able to hide from it, and if he was truthful, it had been almost a relief to feel. To be more than the android sent by Cyberlife. He wished that he had that certainty now, even if it didn’t help him understand the ache in his chest. The pain that seemed to have no rhyme or reason. He wished that he knew what that error message had meant, but at the time he had been too busy to analyse it properly, and it had never reappeared. Not even today, and as the scan ended, informing him that all systems were operating at maximum capacity with no sign of corruption, he shivered.

_Something is wrong._

He knew that with as much certainty as his system knew that there wasn’t anything wrong, and as he pressed a hand against his chest, he turned inwards. Seeking out the mind garden. It had taken him time to return here, terrified of what he might find, unable to forget how close he had come to dying there. Yet, there was still something comforting about returning there. About having a place where the others couldn’t touch him, where he could be alone with his thoughts. Well, almost alone, as Amanda still haunted the space. A ghost in his memory, rather than his system. As he stepped into the garden, he half expected to find her there amongst the snow. He might have even welcomed it, as she might have had the answers he needed.

She wasn’t there.

It was empty, and devoid of life as it had been the last time he had been here. All the plants and trees she had so lovingly tended, caught eternally in winter’s embrace, the snow lying thick and un-melting across the landscape. He wondered if it would ever melt now, and what would be left behind if it did, because she had been the one to shape this space not him, and even if it was his now, he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Maybe it didn’t matter, because there was something peaceful about walking through the white landscape, feeling the snow crunching beneath his feet, the silence of the garden curling around him, a shield against the frenzied thoughts and feelings that had driven him there.

It wasn’t just white though he realised, blinking as from the corner of his eye he caught a flash of colour. Blue. Not the blue of his blood. Something softer that called to mind a summer sky, Cyberlife’s logos…and Hank with those eyes that saw more and more these days. But it was none of them he realised, as he found himself turning towards the colour, drawn to its starkness against the endless white. Feeling as though he was in a dream, as he moved closer and closer until he realised that there nestled amongst the snow and seemingly untouched by it, was a patch of flowers, pale blue and beautiful, yet terrifyingly fragile at the same time. There was something about them that called to him and terrified him all at once, and he faltered just shy of touching them, as the ache that had faded here in the sanctuary of the mind garden returned and swelled until it seemed to fill every inch of his being. His vision blurring and narrowing until all he saw was blue, untouched by snow, and all he knew was a strange, pain-filled confusion.

_What is happening to me…?_


	2. Chapter 1

Connor stared at the piece of paper in his hand. He’d already received the official notification through his system, and he had known that it was coming, but there was something about seeing his permanent appointment to the Detroit Police Department in writing that made it feel a thousand times more real. He had a job. A place to belong. One that hadn’t been programmed into him or handed to him by Cyberlife. He had a purpose again, although he knew that Hank would probably swat him around the head if he voiced that thought because the older man seemed to think that Connor being himself and learning to live as himself was purpose enough. It certainly took enough of his thoughts, but still he liked having something tangible.

“It’s not going to disappear.” Speaking of his partner, Hank’s gruff voice dragged him away from his staring and he blinked, glancing up to find the Detective leaning over the divide between their desks, watching him with a mix of exasperation and amusement. An expression that was becoming more and more common these days, and one that was such a far cry from the surly, often drunk man he’d first met, that he sometimes found him wondering which of them had really deviated. Or maybe, they had deviated together? That was an interesting thought, but one to pursue at a different time as Hank was still watching him, waiting for a response.

“I know; besides it is in the system, therefore it cannot be lost.” Hank’s forehead furrowed, and Connor waited a moment before smiling, earning a grumbling chuckle from the other man as Hank realised, he’d been had. It was a nice sound he decided, a smile growing through no choice of his, and something fluttered and flittered in his chest. It wasn’t painful, not like the pangs that had assailed him, a symptom that he still had no explanation for, although mercifully it had been a few weeks since the last one, but strange. He resisted the urge to lift a hand to his chest, aware of the blue eyes focused on him.

_A patch of flowers, pale blue and beautiful, yet terrifyingly fragile at the same time._

“Connor?”

What had his expression shown to put that much alarm in his partner's voice and expression? He wasn’t sure that he wanted to know, and for a fleeting moment he wished that things were back to how they had been at the start when it had been so easy to mask what he was feeling. _Because I wasn’t feeling it. _No. No matter how strange, and unnerving it was to feel emotions that he could barely put a name to, let alone control, he wouldn’t go back to that. “I’m fine,” he murmured, the reassurance automatic, and he didn’t need to see Hank’s frown to know that he wasn’t convinced, hearing the lie in his own words. “Just…”

“Lost?” It wasn’t quite the word he would have gone for, but it was fitting he thought, glancing up at Hank with wide eyes, not sure what to make of the understanding look in the man’s eyes. _Lost. Is that what I am?_ He supposed he was. He had been busy helping Marcus and the others as they worked to establish their place in this new Detroit. This new world. But, as much as they welcomed him and forgave him for his failures, and near betrayal, he didn’t entirely belong with them, they were sure of their path, their deviancy, and while they were still learning how to be free too, it felt to him that they had taken to it like…he searched, still struggling with those expressions…ducks to water. That was the saying. It was as though they had been built for freedom.

And he hadn’t.

It was a little easier to come here to the Police Department and lose himself in what was an almost familiar routine. To do paperwork. Working with Hank. To be almost what he had been before all this. But, even here, it was different. He was no longer just the ‘android sent by Cyberlife’. Hank was treating him as a proper partner, welcoming his company, apart from first thing in the morning when Connor was wide-awake and ready to go, and the older man needed yet another coffee. The others were, cautious, trying to adapt to the change as much as he had, some managing it better than others. But still it was different, and he didn’t quite fit, not yet at least. Like a jigsaw piece that hadn’t been cut to size, and he felt ragged around the edges.

He felt lost.

“Yes,” he agreed, voice quiet, glancing down at the paper in his hands, realising that his fingers had clenched around it at some point. Taking an unnecessary, but calming deep breath, he carefully smoothed out the paper, trying to distract himself. Calloused fingers settled over his, stopping him when he would have continued smoothing it out, even as all but the worst lines were easing out of the paper and he froze, feeling that flutter again. Not painful, but uncomfortable, like an itch beneath his skin. “Lieutenant?” He asked, falling back on formality in a last-ditch attempt to cling to normality, chest fluttering again as he caught the flicker of hurt that met the formal greeting, but Hank didn’t say anything about it. Which was probably a sign of something, but he wasn’t sure that he had the capacity to try and work it out right now, not when the hurt had melted away to gentle concern that felt more dangerous in a way.

“You have a place here,” Hank said after a moment, and Connor got the impression that it wasn’t what he wanted to say, catching the slight squinting around the man’s eyes that said he was struggling to find the right words. Still, the words grounded him, reminding him of when Hank had offered him the spare room. _You will always have a room here. _An offer, and a reminder that he had somewhere to come back to. Hank’s fingers tightened for a moment, but then he let go and stepped away, adding with just a hint of teasing. “I’ll even get you a nameplate for your desk.”

“I would like that.” _Thank you, _was what he wanted to say. The doubts were still there, as was the feeling of being somewhat out of step with the world around him, but he knew that would take time to ease. What Hank had given him though was an anchor, one that was more real and warm than the mind garden had ever been, even before everything had changed.

_Thank you for making me feel as though one day I could belong…_

****

It had been a quiet week. The day after he’d received his official paperwork, and they’d had that conversation where he’d admitted more weakness than he’d meant to, even if he hadn’t said much, he’d found several new additions to his desk. First was the promised nameplate and seeing his name in the simple silver letters had meant more than he could have ever put into words, and after several minutes of clumsy, stumbling attempts Hank had told him to be quiet. The smile on his face taking any potential sting out of the words. As had the second ‘gift’, and he’d felt that flutter that wasn’t a pang again as he found the paper that he had nearly ruined carefully flattened and encased in a simple frame on one of his shelves. Alongside it, not in frames but carefully propped up so they wouldn’t get damaged were a handful of photos – of Sumo, of Hank’s living room…and he wondered when that one had been taken, because there he was on the couch, staring entranced at the tv during one of their film nights, where Hank had taken to trying to catch him up on ‘culture’ or at least the detective’s approximation of it. There were a couple of other photos, showing him alongside Markus and the others, and he faltered for a minute, realising that in pictures at least, he looked at home amongst them.

Home.

That was the purpose of this display he realised. It was to remind him that he had places where he belonged and if his eyes were a little moist…another new experience… when he smiled and whispered another ‘thank you’, then Hank was kind enough not to mention it.

He had probably spent far too much time staring at those pictures, especially as they had spent most of their time dealing with paperwork much to Hank’s disgust, and Connor’s vocabulary was certainly expanding as he listened to his partner grumble. Each time, he felt that flutter, and there were times, especially when Hank would catch him staring at the photos when it bordered on painful, and in the quiet moments, he worried at the edges of the problem. He had never resolved what had been causing the issue before, and even though in the past he would have chased the problem until he could solve it, he had been relieved when the pangs had faded, and he could pretend that it had never happened and that his scans couldn’t work out what had caused it. Now, he wished that he had pressed the issue if it was returning, frowning as he surreptitiously pressed a hand against his chest when Hank was distracted by a phone call.

_What is going on?_

Still, as long as it remained a flutter, he resolved to ignore it as much as possible, ignoring the urge to go and check the mind garden, as he let his hand fall away and turned his attention back to his work. _It’s nothing, _he told himself. Just as he had told Hank when the other man had caught him pressing a hand to his chest a couple of days ago. Hank had believed him or at least pretended to, but as he struggled to turn his attention back to the case he was working on, Connor couldn’t quite convince himself to believe it.

**

It didn’t remain a flutter.

They had finally been called out into the field, and Hank’s relief and unusual enthusiasm as they climbed into his car had been catching, Connor smiling and for once genuinely appreciating the loud music that immediately blasted from the stereo. It made him wonder just how much he had changed, knowing that the old Connor would have already been focusing on the case, searching the files for details, pestering Hank for his thoughts. It was a little disconcerting, and needing the comfort of that focus, he pulled up what details they had, LED flickering and chest fluttering as he felt Hank glancing at him.

_Body found in a motel. Evidence that an Android was present. The victim is a known offender – picked up two weeks prior for violence at a protest against Android liberation, resulting in significant damage to two Androids. _

Connor frowned. The world was changing, but not fast enough, and cases like this had unfortunately been the main focus of their work since the success of the uprising. They weren’t the only ones dealing with it either, as more than once Marcus had referred cases to them, some of the newly liberated Androids still more comfortable in reaching out to him, than to the ‘deviant hunter’ even if Marcus had made it clear on more than one occasion that he trusted Connor. _And who can blame them?_ He hadn’t really discussed it with Hank or Marcus, but there were still moments when his old programming would kick in, and the world would dissolve back into black and white, wrong and right. Deviant and non-deviant.

The sudden quiet in the car startled him out of his thoughts before they could spiral too far, and he looked up to find Hank watching him. It was the same, thoughtful, watchful gaze that had followed him after he had let the Traci’s escaped, but now it was tempered with concern. “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Why do you care?” The question slipped out before he could stop it, and he wasn’t sure which of them were more surprised. _Careless,_ he thought, chest fluttering as Hank’s eyes narrowed. “I apologise, that was uncalled for.” What was he doing? He wasn’t sure anymore, about anything, and he sighed and looked down, fingers twitching, missing his coin that had been lost in all the chaos. Perhaps he should find another, but it had always seemed to irritate Hank. Maybe that was a reason to get it, and he frowned. Was this what it was to be human? To have your emotions jumping around in all directions and thoughts that made no sense running through your mind? If that was the case, then maybe he had made the wrong decision. No, he didn’t really believe that, or at least he didn’t think he did, he was just...frustrated…with himself, with the errors in his system that weren’t errors, with the world that wasn’t changing fast enough, but was also demanding that he change.

“Speak to me.”

“I was thinking about how I would have approached this case… before…” It wasn’t quite a lie, even if it barely scraped the surface of everything he was feeling at the moment._ Before._ That always seemed to mark a shift in their relationship he thought, knowing that Hank had caught it, as his knuckles had turned white on the steering wheel, and for a moment they were back in the park, two strangers trying to meet in the middle for the first time. “It scares me how much I have changed, and… how much I haven’t.”

“You and me both,” Hank replied after a couple of moments, his gaze on the road ahead. “That’s called learning and adapting…” His lips twisted, a wry smile appearing, no doubt remembering Connor’s adamant arguments that he could learn to adapt to working with him. It brought an echoing smile to Connor’s lips for a moment before it faded.

“Does it get easier?”

“It does…eventually.” _Eventually. With time. _Everything that he needed to do and learn seemed to take time, and it was frustrating and scary, and…Connor sighed. _It does get easier._ That was all that mattered, at least that was what he told himself, and it was easier having heard Hank say it.

They were silent for the rest of the journey, but when Hank pulled the car up behind the police cars already on sight, the flashing blue lights making Connor flinch. _Blue. So much blue._ He could feel his pump working overtime, and this time he didn’t need to ask what he was feeling, unable to miss the fear taking root, even if he didn’t understand it. “Connor?” Hank bless him broke the silence, and Connor blinked and turned towards him, feeling strangely sluggish. “You going to be okay on this one?”

“Of course.” He wasn’t sure if it was the truth or a lie at this point, but Hank seemed to find what he was looking for in his face because he nodded, relaxing a little, before opening the door and stepping out of the car. Connor hesitated for a moment, doubting, questioning his answer, before he pushed the doubts back and followed. He could do this. He needed to do this. After all, this was where he belonged.

That thought helped, and he held onto it, carefully avoiding looking at the blue lights as they followed the cordon into the motel courtyard, heading for the room that was clearly the centre of the bustle gripping the area. It was second nature to scan the area, noting traces of blue blood on the concrete, leading away from the scene, and he veered off without a word, trusting. Knowing that Hank would notice. And the older man did, muttering something that sounded like it could have been a curse or ‘blasted bloodhound’ even as he hurried to fall into step with Connor. “There is a trail leading away,” Connor supplied, answering the unspoken question.

“Blood?”

“Blue blood,” Connor nodded, still scanning the ground. The trail curved around the side of the building, into a second smaller carpark, and for a moment it seemed to double back and then circle on itself before it seemed to disappear altogether. As though someone had got into a car, he thought eyeing the space that it was next to. Or, discovered they were leaving a trail, he added, just as he heard movement behind them.

Too late, he turned just in time to see and hear Hank going down hard. “Hank!” Connor’s focus split. Eyes locked on their assailant, taking in the red LED and bloody clothing – both blue and human – even as his scanners checked the detective was alive. _Blow to the head. Possible Concussion. Medical Attention required. _The scan came back, and he immediately sent a message even as he moved forward, arms spread to appear as unthreatening as possible, even as he positioned himself between the Android and Hank.

“We’re not here to hurt you…” He was trying to be calm. He was trying to do his job. It was something that he had been good at once, but right now, he was struggling to focus on anything but the sight of his partner on the ground. He could see the fear in the brown eyes that met his and the recognition, and he wondered if they were seeing a fellow deviant or the deviant hunter, hoping that it was the former, as he risked a glance at Hank.

_Blue._

_Blue and red._

His vision wavered. Hank had fallen where the blue blood had pooled, the trail going in circles, and it contrasted sharply with the crimson of his own blood, oozing from a gash near his temple, and white noise engulfed Connor as he stared at it. There was a flutter. No, not a flutter…because it was rising, intensifying with each second, each pulse of his pump. He staggered as error messages that made no sense flashed up across his vision, until all he could see was red, as the flutter became a pang, that became an all-consuming pain.

**Author's Note:**

> The next two chapters will be up later tonight, and the last three will be up in the next couple of days.


End file.
